Quick Fix
by shimmeryshine
Summary: "It's not in that pocket," she says turning back to her pile of bones. He glances up at her in question, and across the room Angela's face breaks out in a devious grin.


Hello random fic I found half finished in my documents folder from May 2008! Finished it on a whim just for fun. Could fit anywhere really, but lets say season 5.

-

Booth was propped against a cold metal table as he watched Brennan blow her hair out of her eyes for the fourth time in as many minutes. Her able fingers were covered in their usual latex, flitting across the still fleshy bones of some sorry sucker who found himself killed this week. He was waiting until her preliminary exam was over so that they could move on, maybe get some dinner before sorting out their plan of action for the case. As she leaned across the body again, her hair fell into her field of vision and she huffed at it, trying to move it with the only part of her arm that wasn't currently covered in someone else's body parts.

As if staring at a dead body as you wait for your partner isn't boring enough, he thinks he might go insane if he has to sit there and watch her huff in that annoying way for the _next_ twenty minutes. So Booth does what Booth does, and moves over to help her out -- it is the gentlemanly thing to do after all. Moving to stand beside her, Booth reaches his hand into the side pocket of her blue lab coat, fishing around for the elastic band he knows she keeps somewhere inside.

Brennan jumps at the sudden contact. "Booth, what are you doing?" Her hands are still resting on the table, but her full attention is now on him.

"I'm looking for your hairband so you stop huffing around and trying to move it out of your eyes with your elbow." He's not finding the band, so he moves to her left pocket. She hasn't slapped him yet, so she must be considering the usefulness of his suggestion.

"It's not in that pocket," she says turning back to her pile of bones. He glances up at her in question, and across the room Angela's face breaks out in a devious grin. There is only one other pocket on Dr. Brennan's lab coat, and it certainly isn't anywhere near the _bottom_.

She feels Booth's eyes scan up the front of her body, looking for another pocket, when his eyes settle right over her left breast. He clears his throat a little, "Uh, is it in that pocket?"

"Yes." She really takes more pleasure in watching him squirm than she will ever admit to anyone, and this is an opportunity too good to pass up.

The joke seems to be on her though, when his hand slides lightly into her front pocket. She tries not to physically react to his fingers touching her, but she knows that Angela is staring right at her and that she must be _giddy_ at what she sees.

Booth's hand is in and out pretty quickly, and he's fingering the black elastic she always uses when an unexpected body turns up to be examined. He holds it up in front of her face in victory, but she's not really sure who exactly has been the "winner" in this situation. She'll have to ask Angela later because she is _clearly_ keeping score.

"Hold still Bones," Booth commands from somewhere directly behind her. He's not touching her yet, but she is freezing up in anticipation of his touch. How else would he put her hair up?

"You know Booth, I could just take off--"

Booth cuts her off mid sentence. "I'm already back here, just let me do it." He seems determined, so she doesn't protest, and holds still like he asked. Her hands are still hovering in front of her chest, midway between the metal table and her body, and they clench a little bit as she feels his fingers hesitantly drag their way through the strands of her hair.

She idly wonders if he's ever done this before.

Brennan guesses _no_ when he awkwardly starts clumping her hair together low on the back of her neck. She almost laughs at how strange her hair is going to look, but settles for a lopsided grin that turns into a grimace when he tugs a little too hard. "Ow, Booth!"

"Sorry! Just, how do you even _do_ this?"

"Just, comb my hair all back into your hand, but higher on my head. It doesn't have to be perfect Booth, just get it out of my eyes." Booth starts grumbling, and everyone on the platform has stopped what they are doing to peek at the spectacle unfolding.

It takes him about another solid minute, but he eventually wrangles most of her dark tresses into the hair band and steps back with a "done!" He looks so proud of himself, she can't help but shake her head and laugh at him.

"Thanks."

"Anytime Bones, anytime." His eyes are twinkling at her the way they do when he has just successfully done her a favor. He likes it when she outright lets him do things for her because it doesn't happen very often.

She turns back to the body before her and quickly gets preoccupied with the hows and the whys and the wheres of her bones.

-

It's about an hour later when she has finally shucked her lab coat and Booth is leading her into the diner with a hand at her back. They slide into their usual table on the left side of the room, and don't have enough time to even start a conversation before a little girl has materialized at their side. She seems to have been on her way out, but she tilts her head adorably, as only very small children can do, and points to the messy pony tail on top of Brennan's head.

"Did your daddy do your hair today too?" she asks, shaking her own lopsided pony tail and tipping her thumb in Booth's direction. Brennan's eyes widen because she had completely forgotten to fix her hair before leaving the lab, and the girl leans closer to her to whisper: "They always try real hard, but it's not really a boy thing. _You know._"

Booth tries to cover the snort erupting from his mouth with the back of his hand, but is wildly unsuccessful. To her credit, Brennan never even looks his way, just leans into the little girl, whispering back to her "I didn't want to hurt his feelings." And then she _winks_ at the girl, honest to God _winks_ and Booth is sure she must have picked that up from some children's tv show or magazine because he's absolutely positive he's never seen her wink at _anyone _in the five years he's known her. He would have noticed.

The girl's dad comes up behind her, ushering her out a moment later, and Booth watches the swing of dark hair on her tiny head and gets a flash of something just out of his reach.

Brennan doesn't fix her hair.


End file.
